Cole had not sent for her, nor had he ever made any indication that he would. Did he simply say yes because he needed her to leave him alone? Did he not care about the slave trade at all?

Apparently, yes.

Why then, did he act so concerned for her safety? Why bother discourage her into getting involved?

He might be a part of it.

She paced around the room, arms crossed, eyes closed.

Finally, she gave in and groaned.

Walking behind her desk, she reached for her dipping pen. She must write a short missive to Calan Haverston. This was not working.

Dear...

Her hand stilled. Mayhap she had not tried hard enough.

"Ah, bloody hell," she murmured and continued writing.

Dear Lord Ashmore...

***

The young man in the hallway of the Men of Courts jumped to his feet as Cole approached. "Bring me everything necessary for a registry application."

"Registry application, my lord?"

"You heard correctly. I need everything before the day ends."

"Right away, my lord."

Without another word, Cole proceeded to his office where two letters were already waiting.

One from his mother which he immediately set aside, and the other was from Edmund Trilby. He had instructed the young man to address future missives to the Men of Courts because no man was ever safe in their own households. With the number of letters being delivered to their building, they would be safe. As long as Edmund Trilby was careful with his words.

After reading, Cole sighed and crumpled the note in a fist. He reached for his pen and scribbled a fast reply.

I have trusted eyes watching her. Stop sending unnecessary notes and stop fretting.

Another note arrived shortly after.

Dear Lord Ashmore,

Will you be attending the Seymour ball?

Yours,

Margaret Everard

Jaw tight, he reached for his pen.

No.

-Cole Devitt

A reply returned in less than an hour, delivered by her footman. "Stay," he ordered the man as he read.

Why?

-Margaret

The footman stood from across the table as he wrote.

Simply no.

-Cole Devitt

The same footman was breathless when he returned.

Did you only say yes the other day to be rid of me? Otherwise, tell me when we should meet.

-Margaret

He glared at the sweaty footman before him. "Stand back," he ordered. The man took a step back. Cole covered his reply with the other hand.

Stop this nonsense. I will call for you at the right time.

-Cole

The footman arrived later as expected looking as though he traveled to Willowfair and back on foot. Fearful that her reply would reveal more details for the footman to see, Cole read the note on his lap under the table.

The Seymour Ball shall be the perfect time. If you do not meet me there, then I'm afraid I will have to move on with other options. Lives are at stake here, my lord. Suffering do not have the luxury of a 'right time'.

-Margaret

Cole bared his teeth at the footman, his anger obviously directed at the wrong person. "Go. Tell your mistress I'm busy to write a reply."

The relief on the man's face was evident as he bowed and left.

***

"Why are you here?" Margaret heard Emma ask as she entered the parlor.

The twins were standing in the middle of the room, staring at Maxwell, Nicholas, and Ralph with a frown.

"We are having dinner with you lot," Nicholas replied dryly as he munched on a sandwich. "Would you care to tell the cook we need another platter?"

"My cook cannot make the same sandwiches," Ralph said as he grabbed the last piece before Nicholas could.

"Why are you here?" Margaret repeated the question.

Maxwell, looking bored, answered, "Mother is arriving anytime."

"Why?" the three ladies asked in unison.

Nicholas, cheek still bulging with food, replied, "Because our dear brother eloped with Tori, of course. And by the by, no one has asked how my journey as the witness to the wedding went. It went well, thank you, very much. I was an astounding witness."

Ignoring him, the twins turned to Margaret. "Mother will be devastated."

"I wager my money that she is nothing but ecstatic," Maxwell wryly replied.

"How certain are you?" Ysabella asked, hopeful.

"Because Alice Everard is the Alice Everard, Ysa," Ralph replied. "She welcomes scandal like she does the Herald every morning. Do you ever notice the evil glow in her eyes every time we manage to survive a scandal? She tries to hide it with a scowl, but we know it's all masked pride."

Margaret sat beside Maxwell and told the twins, "Tell Charlotte to prepare mother's chambers. And Ben's and Agatha's as well."

"Ben and Agatha?"

"Mother would oblige them to come. Go, tell Charlotte."

Ysabella and Emma left the parlor with excited steps.

"And the sandwiches!" Ralph cried after them.

"Ring for them yourself!" was Ysabella's fast reply.

"Say, Margaret," Nicholas said, swallowing his food and clearing his throat. He gave Maxwell and Ralph a look as though looking for help but both brothers chose to deliberately ignore him. Margaret instantly knew Nicholas was voted to do the task when they all decided they needed a word with her. "Say, Margaret," he started again, giving her a curt smile, "We heard your recent activities had been requiring you to be out of the estate more often than before."

"And where did you hear that?" she asked, feigning indifference.

"The twins."

She waved her hand. "It is for a case. The twins do not know about the League and are obviously curious what I'm up to. Do not fret over it."

"And do you have to be out so late at night?"

"Who told you?"

"Jefferson."

"Of course. Do not question my activities, brothers, as I do not question yours."

She caught the secret glance her brothers shared.

Could they know about Cole Devitt?

Surely not. If they did, Maxwell and Nicholas would be the first to run after Cole with a either swords or pistols.

Her question remained unanswered for the duration of the day because their mother, as the brothers had said, did arrive with Benedict and Agatha.

"Where are the newlyweds, dear?" was Lady Alice's first question.

"They are not back yet, Mother," Margaret replied.

"She had been quite worried Lady Ashdown ran after Tori and Levi and stopped the wedding," Agatha whispered to Margaret as they both walked behind the woman.

Margaret could not help but chuckle.

"How did it happen, really?" Benedict asked. If there was anyone who was disappointed with the recent events, it must be him. The scars on his face looked deeper than they usually were. And his hands were on his hips.

"I also demand that you tell me everything," her mother asked before entering the parlor where Maxwell, Nicholas, and Ralph were already waiting. Benedict followed inside with Agatha and settled in a chaise, ready for the tale as Lady Alice continued, "And dare not miss a single detail, Margaret, for I do not wish to appear so ignorant in front of my friends should they come calling. This is a scandal! And one must be very detailed with scandals. And where are the twins? Is it true they helped with the elopement? And why did Levi not bring a ladder when he knew Tori would be climbing out the window!"

"Ah, sandwiches," Nicholas said as the servant delivered fresh food and drinks. "Perfect for tea."

Margaret spent the next hour explaining to her mother how she could not properly explain everything because even she did not know that Levi and Tori had feelings for one another, saying she had been too focused on finding her friend a different husband when her brother had been seducing the woman all along.

The next hour was spent arguing about the non-existent ladder and how it should have been existent.

***

Later that afternoon, as the entire family, save for Levi and Tori, were having tea in the parlor, Margaret excused herself.

"Where are you going?" Ysabella asked.

"It has passed my mind that I have a few errands to run," was her only reply. "Do carry on. I shall not be long."

"Bring a parasol, sister, it might rain," Ralph joked, eliciting a fit of laughter from Nicholas.

"You never know, brother, when the ground above you shall break down and you'll find yourself buried in rubbles," Emma snapped at Ralph. "Bring a parasol. What an old joke."

"Still worthy of a laugh," Nicholas countered.

"Stop it," Margaret heard Benedict's famous words, stopping another round of banter before it erupted, as she walked away from the parlor.

Not an hour later, she was standing outside Cole Devitt's estate, having left the carriage and the driver by the park to avoid suspicion. The door opened and the same butler faced her.

"I wish to talk to your master," she said to the man.

"Lord Ashmore is not receiving callers today, my lady," the butler replied.

"Well, then, tell him it is a matter of great importance."

"He gave specific instructions on who I must adamantly refuse should they call upon him." The butler said, giving her a hard look.

"You will never let me in?"

"Not today, my lady, I regret to say."

She narrowed her eyes at the man. "Then will you be so kind to relay my message to your very good master?" She laced her voice with as much acerbity she could muster.

"I also received instructions not to receive any messages of any form from specific individuals, my lady."

Margaret stared at the man incredulously. "Are you quite certain I am on that list of individuals?"

"There was only one person on the list today, my lady."

"Very well, then, I must still say my piece," she said, lifting her chin. "Tell Lord Ashmore that I intend to stay true to my last note."

The butler sighed. "I shall try to relay the message if his lordship will hear it, my lady."

"I am certain he will as I am certain he is listening now!" she said, raising her voice at the last word while craning her neck to shout through the open gap of the door the butler allowed. "Good day, then."

Margaret walked away, keeping her head bent.

She was acting childish with her stalking, but it was the only way she knew how to get his attention. He had ceased to reply to their chain of notes earlier and she was getting quite frustrated. Perhaps it is time to spy on the man the same way she was trained: silently and invisibly.

She crossed the street to where her carriage was waiting. As she rounded to the other side, Margaret stilled and then she went pale.

Someone was leaning against the carriage waiting for her.

"How long have you been meeting with Cole Devitt, Margaret?" Benedict asked.